


stop the world, i wanna get off with you

by officiallylexie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-07
Updated: 2013-10-07
Packaged: 2017-12-28 18:38:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/995199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/officiallylexie/pseuds/officiallylexie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the fic where Louis is a writer and Harry is a photographer bc why not</p>
            </blockquote>





	stop the world, i wanna get off with you

It’s late. It’s somewhere past four in the morning. The tiny window beside the bed, above the nightstand, is cracked, letting cold air into the room as well as the soft music of the crickets outside outside. It’s quiet otherwise; the distant sound of cars whooshing down the streets, the comfortable sound of a silent night. 

Harry can hear his own heavy breathing, every rustle of the sheets as he shifts his legs in poor attempts to get comfortable. 

Their neighbour's porch light outside casts a slight haze into the room, creating dark shadows everywhere; in the hunch of Louis’ small back and along the wall where Harry’s photos are hanging. Most of the photos are of Louis. 

Harry likes to take pictures of Louis. There are pictures of him smiling a big, toothy grin that Harry has kissed many times. There are pictures of him laughing, all crinkly-eyed and open-mouthed. There are one or two pictures of him glaring at the camera, probably because Harry wanted to take pictures of him, but Louis wasn’t having it, but he’d given in anyway because Harry got all pouty. 

And then there are some photos(the majority of them) of Louis writing or reading at the small desk in the corner of the room. 

“Lou,” Harry says softly and sits up in bed, the covers falling from his collarbones down to rest in his lap. 

Louis turns to look at him over his shoulder slowly. His eyebrows are furrowed, dents arching across his forehead where he’s frowning worriedly. Harry can’t see him all that well in the dim light, but he knows what Louis looks like, sleepy and anxious, eyes tired and red. 

“What?” Louis’ voice is crackly, scratchy with lack of sleep and too much caffeine. 

Harry watches Louis with a soft expression, his eyebrows furrowed with genuine concern, maybe a bit of worried fondness laced in between the lines in his forehead. 

He slowly gets out of bed, the blankets falling halfway off of the bed and the cold air shocking his barely-clothed body, goosebumps rising on his pale skin.

The floor creaks underneath his bare feet as he makes his way over to the small boy all curled up in the little computer chair they got from a garage sale one year. 

His arms come up to wrap around Louis’ shoulders and he rests his chin on top of the boy’s head. 

“Come back to bed,” he whispers quietly, rubbing Louis’ sweater-clad arms.

Harry’s notices that’s his own sweater; his blue fuzzy one that Louis had told him he liked, so Harry started wearing it more often. It’s too big on Louis, always has been every time the boy put it on and Harry knows this, but he likes it so much that he doesn’t say anything. 

Louis slumps back against him and leans his head back slightly. Harry can see that his lips are quirked up into a small, sleepy smile.

He looks down at the book in front of Louis. _Pale Fire_ , by Nabokov. 

There are little notes written in messy scrawl on the sides of the two pages visible to Harry, little unevenly highlighted words and phrases.

“Can I finish the page first?” Louis asks and Harry hears his voice crack, but then he clears his throat quietly. “It won’t take long.”

Harry sighs, but smiles, slow and sleepy as he looks down at Louis. He looks so soft and vulnerable, a side of Louis that Harry doesn’t get to see too often. His eyes are droopy and his hair is pushed back messily, like Louis just ran a hand through it when he couldn’t think of the right way to describe something. 

“Can it wait?” he whispers. “It’ll be there in the morning. You need to sleep.” His voice is soft and gentle, not pushy in the least bit. He doesn’t like to push Louis. He thinks it’s great that his boyfriend reads and he writes. Harry’s fine with it. He just knows Louis needs sleep as well. 

Louis sighs and nods, uncapping the yellow highlighter before laying it down where it looks like he’d left off. “I suppose,” he mumbles and Harry lets go of him so he can stand up, watches as Louis does just that. 

He stretches his small body, a loud cracking echoing in the room as he does. 

“You didn’t have to wait for me, you know.”

Harry hums and takes Louis’ hands, leading him to the bed slowly, their feet fumbling against the wooden floor before they finally fall onto the mattress. Harry lays on his back and Louis cuddles into his chest sleepily.

“I know.”

Harry knows he doesn’t have to wait up for Louis, knows that if he could, Louis wouldn’t mind him going to sleep without him. But the thing is that Harry _can’t_. He can’t sleep without Louis next to him.

Maybe it’s because the two have been sleeping together since the second month they were together and Harry’s just gotten used to it. Or maybe it’s because he’s worried that if he goes to sleep, Louis won’t at all and he’ll be tired and miserable the next morning. Harry would feel awful about that. 

So maybe it’s both. 

But it feels nice and comfortable like this. He likes to feel the warmth, the calm familiarity of Louis against his own body, soft and sleepy. 

His hands come up to lightly play with Louis’ fringe and he hears Louis mumble something against his chest. 

“So tired,” Harry whispers, eyes closing slowly as he twirls Louis’ soft hair around his finger as many times as he can before he gets to the end and has to start over again before the chunk of hair falls. 

“You shouldn’t have waited up for me,” he hears Louis say, and then, “get some rest.” It’s then that he feels Louis’ thin lips on his chest, pressing kisses to his skin and making Harry smile. 

“Only if you promise to get some sleep too. I don’t want you writing again until at least noon tomorrow,” he whispers with a chuckle, peeking one eye open to look down at Louis. 

Louis’ hair tickles Harry’s chest as he nods and nuzzles his collarbones with his pretty nose and bites down with sharp little teeth. 

“I promise.” 

The words are soft and oh-so quiet that Harry almost doesn’t hear them, but they’re enough for him to pull the covers over the both of them, shifting so they’re pressed even closer. 

He relaxes and lets out a soft sigh before falling asleep.

He doesn’t miss the quietly mumbled _je t'adore, mon cher_ that falls from Louis’ lips, though.

\-----

Harry’s still asleep the next morning. Or, at least, he would prefer to be. 

Louis obviously isn’t asleep because Harry feels little kisses on his cheeks and small hands brushing his hair back from his face. 

He mumbles something quietly and shifts so his face is buried in the crook of Louis’ neck, not wanting to get up. It’s far too early.

There’s a quiet laugh against his jaw and a kiss to his curls that Harry would very much like to ignore and go back to sleep, but he can’t help the way his lips quirk up into a happy smile.

“Wake up, darling,” Louis whispers, right in Harry’s ear as petite hands rub his back. 

Harry feels a shiver run down his spine, but he shakes his head a bit, still refusing to open his eyes. “No,” he murmurs, the sound muffled by Louis’ neck. He’s not very grumpy in the mornings; just a little, sometimes. 

“Come on,” Louis tries again and Harry feels his bum get squeezed and his ear get bitten. 

His cheeks go a weak red and he fights back a smile, but doesn’t protest Louis’ gestures because he likes the way it feels.

“No,” he replies again, keeping his face buried into Louis’ neck. 

Then he’s being rolled over and there are wet kisses attacking his face that makes him scrunch up his nose and laugh breathily. 

“Harry, wake up,” he hears, “I want goodmorning sex.”

He can’t help the sleepy grin that spreads across his lips as he finally blinks his eyes open to look at Louis, squinting in the bright room.

The window is still open, he notices, but the air is a lot warmer than it was the last time he was awake. 

Louis looks refreshed, well-rested, and it makes Harry happy to see that he’s happy this morning. His eyes are still a little droopy, but Harry knows that’s only because he just woke up. His hair is all messy and going everywhere, but it’s the cutest thing Harry’s seen. 

“Oh yeah?” he chuckles, deep and raspy from sleep. 

This earns a nod and a crinkly-eyed smile from Louis. “Yeah,” he murmur, “only to distract me, though, because you won’t let me write until noon.”

It’s a joke and Harry knows this, so he laughs and rubs his eyes before looking up at Louis again. “Idiot,” he teases, pouting his lips for a kiss.

“You love me, though,” Louis mumbles as he leans down and kisses Harry’s pout. He tastes like sleep, but Harry doesn’t mind; he knows that he tastes the same. 

He grins a bit into the kiss and wraps his arms around Louis’ neck. “Fortunately for you, yeah,” he jokes and kisses him again, a little slower and more proper this time, but Louis pulls away and gasps. 

“What makes you think it’s so fortunate for me, huh? Maybe I hate being with you, but I don’t want to break your weirdly sensitive heart, so I’m waiting until you don't love me?” 

Louis bites Harry’s lip and tugs, hard, making Harry groan and turning his cheeks a weak shade of red as he tangles his fingers into the hairs at the back of Louis’ neck. 

“I’m not weirdly sensitive,” he huffs softly, in which Louis laughs at him, but he gets kissed so he thinks it’s okay. 

“Yes you are,” Louis argues and keeps kissing at Harry’s lip.

Harry just denies it quietly and leans up to push their lips together properly, effectively shutting Louis up.

Their lips move against each other’s slowly and lazily, Harry’s eyes have slipped shut and he feels so good so he reaches down at tugs at Louis’(his) sweater for him to take it off. 

It earns a giggle from Louis that Harry thinks is the cutest thing in the world and then Louis’ sweater is off and Harry can’t refrain from running his hands along the indents of his chest and his torso. 

He has to stop, though, because Louis is reaching down to Harry’s already-bare chest, sliding his hands down and thumbing at his nipples slowly. 

Harry whimpers and releases a soft moan from the back of his throat because it feels so good that it almost hurts. 

He watches as Louis leans down and flicks his tongue over the one on his right, sucking and biting while he rubs the other one in between his thumb and forefinger. 

It makes shivers run up his spine and a soft whine fall from his lips, his back arching up slightly. 

“L-Lou,” he whimpers because it feels so good and he needs _more_.

Louis hums in response and leans down a bit so Harry has to lean up the other quarter of the way to kiss him properly.

It’s wet and it’s kind of sloppy, but Harry doesn’t mind because it’s so good.

“What do you want?” Louis mumbles and Harry sucks his bottom lip into his mouth greedily.

“I don’t know,” he grunts, not breaking the kiss. His hands come up to grip Louis’ hips tightly, squeezing, and Louis smirks. 

“I’d quite like to ride you,” Harry hears Louis mumble against his lips, letting out a soft whine when Harry makes him feel particularly good. 

Harry only whimpers, though, and nods because _yes_ , that sounds like a lovely idea. 

They’re still kissing and Louis is licking into Harry’s mouth dirtily, making these little noises every time he pushes their hips together and Harry thinks that they need to speed this along. 

As if on cue, Louis pulls away from the kiss and kisses down Harry’s neck instead. Harry feels a little bite underneath his ear and he can’t really help himself when he lets out a soft moan and his eyes slip shut, only for a moment, though, because Louis’ kissing at his chest now and Harry wants to watch him. 

Harry likes to watch Louis. He doesn’t like to miss a thing, a flick of his tongue, a flutter of his eyelashes, the quirk of his smile. And even when he doesn’t have his camera shoved in the boy’s face, he feels like maybe he’s taking a photograph of it in his mind and he’ll pull it out when he’s upset and he’ll look at it and smile. 

And right now, Harry wants to take a photograph of this. He wants to capture the way the sun is casting in through the window into the room and highlighting Louis’ cheekbones and his eyelashes. He wants to capture the way Louis’ little teeth come out to bite at Harry’s nipples, but he can’t, so he just lets out a groan.

Louis kisses down his torso and to his hips, licking over the little tattoo there and pulling Harry’s boxers down.

Harry lifts his bum for Louis to take them off, biting his lower lip and watching as the small boy kisses at Harry's thighs like it's the single greatest thing in the world. It makes Harry feel good, so he doesn't say anything. 

He allows his eyes to slip shut finally, his skin feeling tingly everywhere Louis' lips leave kisses. 

There are marks being sucked onto the skin of Harry's thighs and he lets out a soft whimper, his hands fisting the sheets a bit. 

Then he doesn't feel anything. 

He hears a bit of rustling around and Louis' soft huff, so he opens his eyes to find Louis with his fingers in his mouth and his eyes locked on Harry's. 

Harry definitely wants to take a picture of that. 

Louis pulls his fingers from his pretty mouth and smirks at Harry, spreading his legs so Harry has a good view of everything and he thinks this is probably the hottest thing that he's ever going to see. 

The small boy slides a finger into himself quickly and lets out a pretty whine that goes straight to Harry's cock, but he refrains from touching himself because Louis doesn't like when he does that. 

He says it's because he likes to be the one to make Harry come all by himself, but Harry knows it's because Louis likes to be the centre of attention, the only thing Harry is focusing on. And Harry likes that too; they both do. That's why they work and that's why they sometimes don't. 

He watches as Louis fucks himself on his fingers, whimpering and whining Harry's name presumably to play it up. Their eyes are still on each other and it's so intimate and Harry's finds himself biting back his own moans. 

After a while, though, Louis pulls his fingers out of himself with the prettiest whine Harry thinks he's ever heard and he moves so he's between Harry's spread legs, licking a stripe up the underside of his cock. 

Harry inhales sharply and bites down on his swollen lip to quiet himself because he's always obscenely loud and he thinks it's embarrassing. 

Louis apparently isn't having it, though, because in between kitten licks to Harry's cock, he flicks his pretty eyes up and says, "don't hold back. I wanna hear you." 

It makes Harry's cheeks turn a weak red and a small groan escape his lips. "I'm so loud," he breathes, leaning his head back against the pillow. 

"I know," he hears Louis whisper against the base of his cock, "I love it." 

The boy then takes all of Harry's cock into his mouth and Harry can't help himself. He moans loudly and bucks his hips up slightly, letting his eyes slip shut, only for a moment though because he wants to watch. 

Louis is bobbing his head up and down now, sucking and making these wet sounds that mix with Harry's moaning. 

He reaches his hand down to thread his fingers through Louis' hair, letting out a small breath and watching as the boy pulls off, licking his lips with a smug smirk. 

Harry's breathing slightly unevenly now and his face is flushed, but that doesn't stop Louis from sitting up and positioning himself over Harry's cock, slowly sinking down on it and whimpering prettily as he does so. 

Harry lets out a low groan and grips onto Louis' hips, watching him in awe. Louis' face is flushed and his head is tossed back slightly, lips parted and eyes hooded. Harry wants to take a picture of him, but he can't, so he saves it in his memory instead. 

Louis starts to move his hips up and down once he’s presumably adjusted and Harry can’t help the pathetic moans that fall from his lips. It feels so, so good and Louis is so, so tight. 

“O-Oh, god,” he breathes and squeezes Louis’ hips tightly, watching him through hooded eyes in the sunny room. He’s not looking anywhere but at Louis, not at the photographs on the wall, not at the bedsheets that are halfway off of the bed, not at the reflection of the sun through the blinds on the walls. Just Louis. 

He’s looking at Louis’ sweaty fringe that is pushed back and out of his face, his pretty bottom lip that’s in between his sharp teeth, his flushed face. He’s looking at all of him, the way he moves his hips so effortlessly on Harry’s cock.

It’s a breathtaking sight, really, and Harry can’t get enough of it. 

Louis’ bouncing faster now, whimpering and crying out each time he sinks down. He sounds so pretty, the sounds going to Harry’s cock and making him dizzy with it. 

He leans down and kisses Harry wetly on the mouth and Harry moans into it, kissing him greedily. 

“Love you so much,” he breathes and thrusts his hips up into Louis, making him bounce a little more and making him choke out moans against Harry’s mouth.

“G-God, fuck, I love you too,” Louis groans and Harry can tell that he’s trying to kiss him, but he can’t because of the fact that Harry’s continuously bucking his hips up. And that’s okay. Harry doesn’t mind it as long as he gets to listen to Louis’ pretty moaning. 

“L-Lou, I’m so close,” Harry breathes and watches as Louis nods and moves to stroke his own cock.

He succeeds at it for a while before he lets out with a soft cry like he can’t focus on two things at once, so Harry reaches down and pumps his cock for him, watching his face all the while. 

“Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry,” Louis chants breathlessly, squeezing his eyes shut tighter as he comes into Harry’s fist and onto his own chest, moaning loudly and whining with it. 

That’s it for Harry. That’s really all he needs to toss his head back and moan loudly, coming deep inside of Louis. 

His hips slow down a bit as he rides out both of their orgasms before they completely stop and Louis falls onto Harry’s chest, breathing heavily.

Harry wraps his arms around Louis and rubs his back gently, closing his eyes. His cock is still inside of Louis and that’s okay. He knows Louis likes to keep Harry inside of him for as long as he can before they’re both uncomfortable. 

He feels Louis’ heavy breathing against his neck and hears his whine when the boy finally does rise his hips off of Harry’s cock, only to fall right back on top of him and curl up on his chest. 

They’re both a bit breathless and worn out. Harry feels like he could use a long nap, but it’s eleven in the morning and he’s a little hungry. He thinks it can wait, though, until they’re both a bit recovered. 

\-----

Harry hears Louis come into the kitchen quietly as Harry’s making them both spaghetti for lunch. 

His footsteps are soft and quiet and he’s warm when he wraps his arms around Harry, kissing his shoulder.

Harry can’t help but to smile and lean back a little. “Was expecting you to be asleep,” he murmurs, “you seemed really tired.”

As if on cue, Louis yawns and then chuckles a bit. “I am really tired,” he says. “But the bed isn’t comfortable without you. Home isn’t home without you around.”

**Author's Note:**

> all mistakes are my own!!! 
> 
> the title is from an Arctic Monkeys song
> 
> this was solely inspired by a prompt i read somewhere :)
> 
> ***THIS HAS BEEN EDITED BECAUSE SOMEONE INFORMED ME THAT THE PROMPT I READ WAS NOT THE PERSON'S OWN PROMPT. IT WAS STOLEN FROM SOMEONE ELSE'S WORK. I TRIED TO CHANGE THE BEGINNING UP AS MUCH AS I COULD TO DRIVE IT AWAY FROM BEING PLAGIARISM. I HOPE I SUCCEEDED BECAUSE THIS IS COMPLETELY MY OWN WORK.***


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